lued her, and to
try not to wound her sensitive, loving heart; so was Cousin Charlotte.
And Esther, on her part, taught herself the lesson that one person can
love two without loving either the less.

So when Penelope was at last able to creep about again, and Guard seemed
as hale and hearty as ever, a new era of peace and happiness dawned for
Moor Cottage, and never could there have been a happier, busier, more
united little household than that was.

The summer went by like a golden flash, so it seemed to the children,
so full was every day of work and play, picnics, lessons, walks,
gardening, and a dozen other occupations. No matter what the weather, or
how busy she was, Esther never failed to go to Mademoiselle Leperier's
three times a week, and twice a week Penelope went for her singing lesson.
Penelope was having French lessons of Mademoiselle too, and she and Esther
studied together.

Miss Row came back from her journeyings, and, entirely oblivious
apparently of all that had passed, sent for Penelope to recommence her
organ lessons, and was quite annoyed that she had not kept up her
practising. But at this Miss Ashe's gentle spirit rose, and she talked to
Miss Row so frankly and seriously that that eccentric lady became very
repentant, and to make up for her unkindness promised Penelope the post of
organist, at a salary of twenty-five pounds a year, as soon as ever she
was capable of filling it.

To Penelope this was success indeed, and as soon as her arm was strong
enough to bear it she practised with an assiduity which promised that the
time was not so very far distant when she would be fitted to take over her
appointment.

Angela, before that summer was over, acquired three more chicks and a
fowls' house of her own, and already saw visions of herself presiding over
a farm--which should adjoin Moor Cottage--well stocked with fowls and
ducks, geese and turkeys, cows and pigs, horses and dogs.

"And I shall write out to daddy and mother to come home," she would say
triumphantly. For Angela never grew reconciled to the thought of her
parents' exile. "It must be so sad and lonely and uncomfortable out
there," she would say. "Mother might find it dull here, but she would
have lots of books to read, and that would make her happy."

"I should live wiv you, shouldn't I, Angela?" Poppy inquired eagerly.

"Oh yes, we should all live together."

"But what about Cousin Charlotte? I am sure she would be _very